Conjunction
by superfan24
Summary: A character study of sorts of Damon, Stefan, and Elena set sometime through season three. Rated T for language.


Hello all! I've decided to try my hand at some Vampire Diaries fanfiction. I'm excited/nervous because I wrote this at 3 am yesterday and it might be complete crap but, what the hell?

I've plans to turn this into a series of sorts. One character study per chapter. This takes place sometime in season 3, and if response is good (and probably even if its not) I'll be posting about three more.

Starting with Damon. Because... Damon. *sigh*

Disclaimer: I own nothing, just musing with characters for fun.

* * *

Never in a million years would he admit it, to anyone, ever, but sometimes, all Damon Salvatore wanted was a fucking hug. Someone to tell him he was doing alright, that they could see he was _trying_. Because he _was_ trying, he was trying harder than he'd ever tried in his entire fucking life.

To be good.

To _do_ good.

And it was for a girl, of course. Because he was always bending over backwards for some fucking girl.

Some girl to tell him he wasn't good enough. That he could try as hard as he wanted, do and say the right things at the right time, but in the end it wouldn't matter. Because the end result was always the same.

Because Stefan.

It would always be Stefan, wouldn't it?

He could be lying in a pool of his own blood, inches from death, and the words, _I'm sorry, but, ´ _would always be whispered in his ear.

Sure, she gave him just enough. Just enough hope to cling to, to keep him in line. To keep him from killing and cheating and stealing and being an all-around bad guy.

He wasn't really sure why he kept letting this routine play out. Why he didn't just turn it off. Life had been… not better, but the simplicity of it was what he really craved. Because he was tired of letting chocolate eyes rule him. He was tired of letting that voice own him.

Mostly he was just tired.

And sad in a way that kept him reaching for a bottle.

Because god for-fucking-bid he reach for a warm blood source.

Because he was supposed to be _so fucking good_ and never get what he wanted. What he really wanted. And if Damon Salvatore cut out all the bullshit, and dropped all the walls, and was honest with even himself for once, he'd admit that all he wanted was to be someone's first choice.

For someone to love him.

Unconditionally.

He'd experienced that kind of love once, for a short time when he was a child. His mother had loved him. She'd loved him in a way he'd never experienced ever again. With no reservations. With no ulterior motives.

With nothing but the love in her heart and the warmth in her eyes.

Until that changed.

Because Stefan.

Stefan had been born, and of course most of her time was devoted to the new baby. And then she'd caught fever, and died, and she took all that love with her.

Then he'd met Katherine. She was beautiful, and witty, but there was a danger about her he loved most of all. He'd thought he'd met his match. That he'd found someone who loved as wildly and as passionately as he did. Who was reckless. Until that changed.

Because Stefan.

Stefan had come along and he was so pure and so good and so innocent. He was everything Stefan wasn't. And in the end, Katherine was drawn to Stefan's light because her own darkness was too overwhelming, and Damon's would have dragged them both to hell.

He spent years reeling. And learning to live. And hating Stefan.

And then Elena.

He'd met her on an abandoned road and she spoke to him like he was important. Like the words coming out of his mouth mattered to her.

That he could maybe matter.

Talking to her for a minute had proved she was no Katherine. She wasn't just light.

She was radiant.

And for a moment, Damon thought he understood, all those years ago, exactly _why _Katherine had chosen Stefan in the end. Because in his moments of clarity (or weakness) he could admit that she _had_ chosen his brother, even if she'd never exactly said it. Even if she did want them both.

(But that was just her selfish, manipulative bitch showing.)

He wanted to bathe in Elena's light. Let it fill him up and make him better. Until that wasn't an option anymore.

Because fucking Stefan.

Stefan came along and saved her and whisked her off her feet. He played everything safe, and Elena responded to that stability. She clung to it.

He'd bowed out gracefully (not) and genuinely tried to be happy for his brother (_really_ not) and he tried to pretend he wasn't sad and lonely and desperate.

Cue Andie Star.

She was tall and beautiful, and a _woman_ in all the ways Elena was still a girl. But mostly she had no family in the area and didn't ingest vervain. Thus, her main appeal. Damon hated to admit it, but he'd grown to care for Andie. He'd begun to rely on her companionship.

(Mostly she'd been a very good fuck, but her uses hadn't ended there.)

She was a great fountain of information and if she made Elena uncomfortable in the meantime, well, that was just a perk. He'd enjoyed her thoroughly. Until he couldn't.

Because _fucking_ Stefan.

Admittedly, Stefan had been high on human blood at the time, and Damon would feel responsible for _that_ particular ripper binge for the rest of his days. He'd brushed that death aside, shoved all those pesky feelings down, made like it didn't break his heart. It had. Just a little.

Damon Salvatore knew he wasn't perfect, but really? What had he fucking _done _to deserve stab after stab at his already dead heart? He could admit to his mistakes.

(Silently. In the comfort of his mind.)

Because through everything, Damon had made some colossal mistakes. Like breaking her brother's neck or trying to kill her best friend in transition, like feeding her his blood when he knew she'd never wanted to be what he was.

He'd fucked up. A lot. But couldn't anyone see he was lashing out? Didn't anyone see his pain? Sometimes he felt like he would turn to ash, or he hoped he would, because the pain inside was so great that he could hardly stand it.

(Cue that bottle. Cue the whole fucking bar.)

Because sometimes Elena would look at him. Really _look_ at him in a way that made him feel _seen_.

Those were the moments he lived for.

Because Damon.

He'd always fucking _try_, wouldn't he?

* * *

So... let me know what you thought? Next up will be Elena. Thanks for reading!


End file.
